


Pale and bitey

by Lord_Risley



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Being bitey, Crack, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Stubborn umbrellas, Vamp!lock, Vampire Sherlock, Vampire donors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Risley/pseuds/Lord_Risley
Summary: Sherlock is a little careless and gets hurt on the job. John is not impressed, heads in the fridge is one thing, fangs are quite another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I wrote anything and so here we go. It was meant to be a one shot about a first kiss and instead you get chapter one and it's vampires. But hey!
> 
> Might need some editing as I go. Leave comments please and be kind :)

John slammed the door as he marched back into the flat, not caring that Sherlock was about to walk across the threshold behind him. He was angry and while that wasn't a rare thing, it was anger like he had never felt before. 

"Idiot!" 

He shouted and banged a fist on the kitchen counter. All that did was make his hand hurt like an absolute bastard. He held his hand under the cold tap, muttering to himself darkly as he did so. 

"Hurting yourself is a little ridiculous don't you think?" 

A cool voice said. John flinched visibly, his feet almost leaving the floor. 

"Stop bloody doing that! It's creepy and just....STOP IT!" 

He grumbled, glancing at Sherlock, anger still flashing across his face 

"And if you can't seem to help yourself then cough or bang into something purposefully or I'll be dead of a heart attack long before you get a chance to finish me off." 

Sherlock sighs and rolls his eyes. He's getting bored of all the hysterics already and he has a bad feeling there may be a lot more to come. 

"I've told you, multiple times..." 

He stresses. 

"I didn't do it intentionally! Why would I? It was an accident and a little support would be appreciated. I'm the affected one you know!" 

"And I'm the one to suffer...as usual!" 

He yells and dries his hand off on a towel. It's all so raw and so very wrong. He looks at Sherlock and sees the changes that really are quite small, the most disturbing of which is the faint red fleck in his eyes. 

"There has to be a way to fix this, there just has." 

"I'm a vampire John!" 

He shouts, losing his cool for the first time that evening. His eyes flash and for a moment, just one tiny moment, everything seems to slow and his senses become more heightened. he can smell the scent from Johns shampoo, the chemicals in the mixture. He can see more clearly, sharper than before. He can hear the steady thump of John's heart, the pulse of blood through his veins. 

"There is no cure but death so unless you're thinking of lopping my head off, you'll just have to get used to it." 

"Get used to it?" 

John says in total disbelief. 

"Get used to my....to you, becoming a bloody vampire? Sure, should I just smile, nod and put some blackout blinds in for you? I can't get used to it Sher, I won't. You...you can fix anything so you can fix this bloody catastrophe!" 

"John." 

He tries again. 

"There is no known cure for vampirism. I will of course look into it but you know as well as I, this is it. We have to find a way to cope with it and just carry on." 

"Carry on? How can we? You'll still take clients will you? Looking all pale and bitey? You'll sit in the sunlight and listen to them and not think ooooh they look tasty." 

He flaps his hands and puts on a high voice that sounds nothing like Sherlock at all. 

There is a faint smirk that plays over his lips before Sherlock answers. 

"Bitey?" 

 

John's cheeks flush a vivid shade of pink. 

"You know what I mean." 

He raises both hands, miming claws and makes a hissing noise. 

"You're a vampire. The one thing we can be certain of is that you want to be biting nice big veins!" 

He snaps, poking his own neck with one finger before thinking that may not be the most intelligent thing to do. Don't draw attention to your jugular John. 

"Do you still believe in trolls beneath bridges and pots of gold at the end of the rainbow?" 

Sherlock asks in a low voice, stepping closer to John. He sees the man flinch but he doesn't back off this time. He keeps moving, crowding John and pushing him up against the kitchen counters. 

"This happened to me and all you can think of is your own veins. You haven't asked about the vicious hunger that is twisting my stomach. You haven't asked about the heightened senses or the fact I can feel your fear, almost smell it rolling off you in waves" 

 

It takes him a moment but John steels himself, squaring his shoulders and meeting Sherlocks (slightly terrifying) gaze. 

"I am /not/ scared." 

He says in a serious voice. He pokes Sherlock in the chest with one finger and pushes, lips twitching into a smile when Sherlock backs up. He unfurls his fingers and lays a palm on Sherlocks chest. There is no steady beat, no warmth at all. 

"You can really hear my heart beating?" 

He really does have to admire his little soldier. He's facing down a brand new vampire who just admitted he's hungry. His little soldier is standing his ground and not letting himself be forced back or boxed in. 

"If I focus, yes. I can hear it quicken when you are ....not scared of course." 

"Of course." 

John replies drily and then gives a little push to the cold slab of concrete that should be Sherlock's chest. 

"We both know that I can't move you but I am telling you to back off Sherlock. I'm sure you can still feel pain?" 

Sherlock moves back in a deliberate and slow fashion, best not to make the jumpy soldier.....well, jumpy. He walks back to the living room and holds his hands up in a mock surrender. 

"Now that is a more intelligent question to ask. I have absolutely no idea. The only way to know would be to test it." 

"Test it?" 

John asks in expasperation. 

 

"What are you suggesting? I start whacking you with various implements and you measure your pain against previous experiences, I could start with a frying pan and work up to a wooden stake!" 

 

He finishes sarcastically, still staying in the kitchen. The space between the men seems to reassure him a little. 

"You don't have a wooden stake! Although...might be an idea to fashion one just in case I lose control of myself. Keep it nearby but not in hand, I don't want you jumping up because you see a shadow and accidentally landing a wooden spoon through my heart." 

John just stares back at Sherlock. He is actually suggesting he arm himself in case a rabid vampire goes looking for a midnight snack and forgets he isn't supposed to eat the one he lives with. 

 

"I am not-" 

 

He's interrupted by a knock at the door and they meet each other eyes and sigh. 

"Mycroft?" 

John says in a weary voice. 

"Mycroft." 

Sherlock agrees in the same tone.


	2. Sucking your brother.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft comes to help.

M:”Oh all the idiotic things to do!”

John and Sherlock sat on one side on the kitchen table, facing an irate Mycroft on the other. They had forgotten their argument for the minute as they banded together to be harangued by Mycroft. It was rather like being told off by your mum, a thought that brought a grin to John’s face.

M:”I hardly think this is the time for amusement or levity John.”

Mycroft muttered and rubbed one hand over the other, gripping the umbrella so tightly it was liable to wedge between the floorboards soon.

“Believe me, I am not amused. Sherlock and I were just discussing-“

“We were arguing.”

 

Sherlock interrupts and gets a swift kick from under the table.

“Yes. /we/ know that but discussion sounds so much more like…like….”

M:”Not like a pair of children squabbling over who gets the last sweetie?”

Mycroft offered and was met with a pair of stares across the table, both not amused and one, one was utterly terrifying. He broke the stare, looking away, not something he would normally do, but those eyes of his brothers.

M:”No matter what has happened, we must get you listed on the vampire register, nobody can say it wasn’t all done to the letter of the law, we can deal with the difficulties later. You are a protected species and as such, desirable to many.”

“Species? He’s not a beagle or a horny lizard.”

There’s a snort from beside John and he doesn’t dare look for fear of laughing himself.

M:”Regardless, he is highly prized. Have you heard the latest ridiculous rumours?”

“Oh I think I did.”

Sherlock drawls in a bored tone.

“Apparently 10 ml of my blood and you’ll be erect for hours, hence why some men pretend to be vampires to work in the porn industry.”

“Never!”

John gasps, turning in his seat to look at Sherlock.

“So I heard. There is always a small chance of death due to the toxicity of vampire blood but apparently it’s worth dying if you get to spend your last hours of life buried in some-“

M:”THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!”

Mycroft snaps, banging the umbrella down onto the floor.

M:”You two, do you actually hear yourselves when you talk? My brother has become a vampire and you’re discussing a future career in pornography!”

“Ah no.”

Says John and shakes his head.

“Not me.”

Sherlock shakes his head too.

“Not at all what he said.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You said other men.”

“I did.”

“Thank you for paying attention.”

“You’re welcome.”

 

They both look smugly back at Mycroft who looks on the verge of a stroke now, face red and the vein in his temple throbbing.

Sherlock suddenly retches, pulls a face and gags, clapping a hand over his lips and ducking his head down to almost table level.

“What’s wrong?”

Asks John, leaning in to Sherlock and ducking his head to better see.

“I just saw that vein….thought about it….about blood…about tasting it….HE’S MY BROTHER! Is this…is this the equivalent of vampire incest!?”

John roars with laughter and slaps Sherlock on the shoulder; it’s much like slapping a brick chiselled to be shaped like a shoulder. The sad pathetic look that Sherlock gives him doesn’t help matters at all.

“You wanna suck your brother!”

He yells, rocking back in his seat, one arm clutched across his stomach, laughing helplessly.

“I do not! I just saw that vein and I think it was instinct. I’m hungry and he’s full of delicious blood and …..YUK! I can’t stop thinking about sucking Mycroft!”

John snorts and rolls right off the edge of the kitchen chair, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

“Stop!”

He whimpers, still clutching his aching stomach, not noticing the dull ache spreading over his hip.

“Please stop.”

M:”I assure you, nobody will be sucking on me tonight.”

Sherlock looks at John, John looks at Sherlock. There’s a tremble of lips as they both try to hold it in. Surely Mycroft can’t be that immune to innuendo?

M:”Least of all my brother.”

Apparently he can. Sherlock starts sniggering, still trying to hide his face but it’s useless. He flaps a hand at Mycroft, a flap that is meant to convey ‘Shut up, you fool.’ While he’s unable to speak.

Mycroft stands up, drawing himself up to his full height and scowling at the pair of children before him.

M:”I am not going to waste my time further. Sherlock. I will require your presence at time of registration. Until that time I suggest you and Doctor Watson separate for his own safety. I have found you a temporary donor who will arrive shortly. Doctor Watson, I have a hotel room secured for you. A car will be waiting outside in half an hour. Obviously there is a security team watching you Sherlock, if you go out on your own tonight you will be followed so don’t bother trying. I have no doubt that this transition will be unpleasant, difficult and trying.”

He stops there, really he should offer words of comfort but really…not his area.

M:”Try to take this seriously.”

He pleads.

M:”It is a very serious matter.”

It was truly a serious matter. Something John and Sherlock had been fighting about so recently and perhaps they would have taken it more seriously had Mycroft not reached for his umbrella and found it standing upright all by itself, jammed into floorboards and wobbling side to side but absolutely refusing to be pulled free.


	3. Distinctly female parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady parts and bitey parts

Exactly half an hour after Mycrofts visit, and as promised, there was a gentle knock at the door. John raised his eyebrows and stood from the sofa.

“She wouldn’t let a stranger in.”

John whispered so their mystery visitor wouldn’t hear them.

“No. But who do I know that would let me feed from them? I mean, I could accidentally tear their head off and suck out the arteries.”

John fixes Sherlock with a stare of absolute ‘that is not funny, cease now or feel my fist.’

“Asshole.”

He mutters under his breath.

Sherlock is past John and by the door in the blink of an eye, all seemingly without making a single sound.

“An asshole with excellent hearing.”

He grins and swings the door open. Anthea stands on the threshold, dark hair sat on her shoulders in the same perfect wave. She wears a blood red dress that ends chastely at the knee and carries a small clutch purse to match.

“Mr Holmes. Your brother, Mr Holmes, sent me here to assist you with your transition. I am a willing donor. I have full blood tests every month and have brought a copy of my paperwork. I also carry weaponry in order to defend myself in case of over excitement. I would appreciate the use of my thigh to save any scarring on my neck.”

She says in the most matter of fact way and walks into the flat, helping herself to a seat on the sofa, perching on the edge with her ankles demurely crossed.

“And tea would be lovely, thank you. No sugar.”

John and Sherlock seem to be in a similar state of shock and both nod obediently, backing away to the kitchen to make tea. As soon as they are as far as they can be, huddled in a corner and using the noise of the running tap to cover them, they feel free to talk.

“That’s Anthea!”

“Oh well done John. I am so glad to see that all the time spent with me has sharpened your deductive skills and reasoning. What other fascinating insights can you give me?”

“That it’s possible to break a nose with one strike from the heel of my hand.”

“Not a fan of sarcasm…noted.”

He nods and starts to bang cupboard doors and noisily clank mugs.

“What are you doing?”

John asks as the sugar bowl is repeatedly hit with a spoon.

“Making it seem like I’m making tea so I can talk to you in relative privacy.”

“Absolutely nobody in the known universe makes tea like that. Shove over.”

John shoulder barges Sherlock and allows himself a smug little smile when Sherlock just backs off. He, John Watson, is bossing a new vampire around the kitchen. He takes over the tea making by doing sensible things like actually filling the kettle and flicking the on switch. He turns to get the milk and sees Sherlock pacing up and down the small space by the fridge.

“I can’t do it John, I just can’t. Nope. I wasn’t hungry anyway. It’s silly, just Mycroft interfering as usual. Sending his, his, Anthea like some sort of sacrifice. Well, I won’t do it. Never. No.”

He spins on the spot, stomping right up to John, looming over him until their noses touch.

“John. She’s female.”

He hisses as though it were a secret known only to the most intelligent of men.

John raises his brows and holds up a finger to get Sherlock to wait a moment. He walks the short distance to the living room. He smiles at Anthea who smiles and then returns to the exact same spot.

“yes. Yes She appears to be female…Just. Like. Every. Other. Time. We. Met. Her!”

He snaps back, annunciating every single word. Could it actually be possible that Sherlock never noticed that or has his new state made him a complete idiot?

The kettle clicks off behind the pair and John returns to making tea, stuffing a teabag into each mug. Sherlock returns to being an agitated vampire which means slightly creepy silent pacing.

“I cannot bite her! I don’t even know how to bite and what if I rip her leg off and you know where thighs are don’t you John? At the top of legs next to…”

He falters, not really wanting to discuss Antheas body parts.

“..her distinctly female parts.”

John puts the carton of milk down carefully, choosing his next words with great caution.

“Sherlock. About womens legs that lead to womens thighs and then….distinctly female parts. Have you ever, um, interacted with any?”

Sherlock recoils, nose scrunched and tongue sticking out to one side.

“Of course not. What would make you think I have ever done that? I also have no intention of starting now. John. Please?”

 

 

An hour later and the strangest party of four sat in the living room of 221B, three clutching mugs of coffee and one trying not to watch the gentle pulse of blood in the dip of Johns neck.

:”So let me be clear. Sherlock is a vampire.”

Mycroft starts.

“Yes.”

”He hasn’t had his first feed since the unfortunate incident.”

“Correct.”

”I offer up a willing donor with perfect security clearance and you turn her down because…..”

Sherlock looks at John in desperation, there are so many things he’d rather be doing right now rather than having this conversation. One of which would be just nip at the skin of John’s neck, just a little taste…

”Sherlock?”

Mycroft prompts since his brother seems intent on staring at John’s neck.

“Sorry. Yes. Distracted. So. Yes. Me. John. Partners. Blogging. Crime solving….sexually.”

He mumbles the last word and starts to flick imaginary fluff from his trousers.

M:”How long?”

“Welll depends really. First time, normally about half an hour, I quite enjoy the foreplay but the second time is always a bit quicker because John is getting-“

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HE MEANS!”

John shouts to cover the end of that horrifying sentence.

“Eleven months. We’ve been together for eleven months. We didn’t tell anyone because it wasn’t anyones business and Sherlock just thought you’d know anyway. We are a couple and although we are currently an interspecies couple…we still are.”

Mycroft remains impressively blank throughout this whole outburst.

M:”Therefore you do not wish to feed from Antheas thigh?”

“Nobodies thigh! Especially no women and nobody but John.”

He realises his mistake almost immediately. The room had been quiet and now it’s eerily silent and everyone seems to be inching away from him ever so slightly.

“That sounded wrong. I didn’t mean I’ll bite you or attack you."

"Oh but Sherlock you will. You will get hungry eventually and the temptation will be too much. John will be there beside you and then you'll think you can just have a little nip, then a little more and then whoops you have a corpse."

"No, no. no!"

Sherlock says and holds up a hand.

"John and I have discussed this. We don't yet know how much....food, I need or how often. I am going to try to survive on a minimum, maybe top it up with animal blood. In the meantime, John will supply me with his blood. For safety, he'll draw it off at work and store it in the fridge for me. If I don't get used to fresh, maybe I can live with it. "

Mycroft rolls his eyes, huffs and tuts, something Sherlock thinks is extremely over dramatic. 

"Have you even thought about sex?"

Mycroft asks, thinking Sherlock is bound to get a bit carried and bite something he isn't supposed to.

"Not since this morning when I had John over the arm of the armchair you're sat in brother."

"SHERLOCK!" John bellows while Mycroft shoots out of the chair.


End file.
